Plenty in Need

"Faith isn't figuring out what we're able to do; 

it's deciding what we're going to do - 

even when we think we can't." 

Bob Goff

I had to say goodbye. 

Those words that sit heavy on your heart; the ones that you can't seem to understand. 

Goodbye. 

And yes, though I'm used to the goodbyes that tend to tear away a piece of your heart and keep it for safe-keeping, the ones that leave you up at 2 o'clock in the morning, the ones that leave you dreaming of your return. 

I'm not so used to the goodbyes that happen for the last time. 

And so as I sat in the airport and watched as hundreds of people turned into my three's company of strangers, all I could bring myself to do was quietly wait for 4 AM. 

4 AM would come and I would become sure that the perilous hours of traveling were almost, almost over. 

I spent the rest of my time watching the beautiful people stumble up to the gate with sleep still in their eyes, quietly telling myself that my feet would soon touch the ground that was foreign to me four years ago. 

My feet would soon touch the familiar ground, the home of my heart. 

Three dear ones showed up to greet me at the airport and talked to me about my week at home and my full day of traveling and then we slowly became graced with a comfortable silence, because that is what happens when you feel at home with people. You don't even really have to explain yourself. 

The only expectations that exist are the expectations you have for yourself. 

The ones you love will accept you in your grief, heartache, hopelessness, and sorrow. 

And they surely won't expect that you will be able to perfectly express your every last emotion with spoken word. 

I arrived to my house, unlocked the door and saw signs up all around the room with balloons and suddenly before I even had time to process things...twenty people came out behind closed doors. 

Twenty of the ones my heart has come to love with all that I am. 

I was surrounded with hugs and the kind of smiles that light up a room. 

I was surrounded by love. 

They took me to eat my favorite meal and more people kept showing up to welcome me back. I couldn't find the words. I couldn't even peg the emotions that were sweeping away my grief. 

We came back to the house and beautiful words were said and prayed over me, and then I found myself doing something that I never do. I found myself asking if it was okay for me to say something. So I stumbled through my half-hour of sleep Spanglish and made sure my loves knew that I have received much more than I could ever give here. 

Sunday was full of people. It was full of love. It was a full day and while my body wanted to shut down and find sleep; I was exactly where I needed to be, surrounded by people for hours. 

Monday would come quickly and I would find myself settling back into the familiar halls of NOE, the bustling busyness and the crazy delights, that are our students. At 5 o'clock I was making my way up to my elementary classroom and all of my students kept running around the halls and smiling. When I made it up to the door, I was locked out. They were yelling at me to give them just a few minutes. And so I stood there smiling. When I opened the door, I was greeted with notes tacked all over the walls, love written all over the board and hugs from all of my twelve. 

It just so happened to be another moment of God knowing exactly what I needed. 

Can I tell you something?

Morelia, Mexico was just another unknown city to me on the night of March 23rd, 2011, but by God's grace a mere hundred words were used to make an unknown city become all I know, and it's been four years of being home. The people, my people here nursed me back to health after weeks of sickness and welcomed me back home after a week surrounded by grief. 

My heart has been surrounded by love and kept together by the ones I love. And well, yesterday, was difficult. I'm honestly not sure what exactly happened, but I guess I'm guilty, just like the rest and that most of the time rather than acknowledging my emotions and my needs I shrug them off with my bony shoulders, I sweep them under the rug. But they end up catching up with us, don't they? 

Because grief is very real. Pain is real, too. 

I'm not telling you this to worry your faithful reading eyes; I'm telling you, because maybe you, too, need to be reminded that you don't always have to possess the perfect words, you don't always have to fix the broken things and people around you, you don't always have to be steady on your own two feet,  you don't always have to be strong and be put together. 

You'll have moments of brokenness and the verse I wrote on my hand yesterday will become something tangible to you, something seen with your very own swollen eyes. Because their plenty will indeed supply your need. That is what happened yesterday, over and over again. 

Their plenty supplied exactly what I needed. 

Their plenty will supply exactly what you need. 

Grief will come and sadness will strike without warning, but you sweet child, you let the tears come and be certain of one thing, you are not the fixer. You are not expected to put everyone else back together. You will have your moments of need, dear child, and your loves will be here to point you back to Jesus and they will be here to catch you. 

And even in your grief, He will use you. 

You'll find yourself somehow managing to pray with two of your dear daughters in between your torrents of tears. And the verse will become tangible, because you will see that it is by His grace that your never praying in Spanish will indeed happen. You will see that even you have something to give, among your grief. You will still have something to give on the days drenched with difficulty. 

Little notes and flowers will be placed in your hands and friends will whisk you away, after just glancing at your eyes. 

And you know what, Jesus will provide. 

He will use their plenty to meet your need, sweet child. 

And no one is expecting you to hold it all in; you will have to unclench your fists and resist the lie, the one that has told you for years that you are a burden. You aren't a burden for the ones you love. 

So let your loves hold you tighter, let them whisper gentle truths that you are finding hard to believe, let them sit with you in silence, let them be able to tell you that it is completely okay to cry. Please.

S t o p 

Stop trying to convince yourself that you can't have bad days and that you can't waver or be enshrouded with doubts. 

Stop expecting perfection and embrace your weakness, child. 

Embrace the difficulties and realize that His grace will ever be present in your life.

. 

So today, I'm choosing to remind myself that Jesus has me. 

I'm also choosing to remind you, Jesus has you. 

it's enough

2015. 

I reckoned that my word was enough for this year and now we are two months in and I find myself staring at the days that have all but passed me by, letting the overused phrase enough is enough give my heart comfort. 

But that phrase can't become a balm to a hurting soul. 

It can't undo sickness, it can't replace grief. 

Enough is enough, that isn't exactly what my heart meant when I declared enough to be my word for 2015. But instead I figured Jesus would teach me that I'm enough this year, and that He is enough. 

But when sickness claimed the victory over my body for two and a half weeks and when Jesus took my Grandfather home, enough is enough, became my standard response. 

However, what I learned is that God is the same God in my sickness, as He is in my health, what I learned is that God is the same God in my grief, as He is in my joy. 

I learned that there will be days when you need people to care for you. They will catch the keys from the window and come in to wash the dishes and concoct something out of nothing for lunch. They will be the ones that tell you to stay right where you are and let them tend to you. They will exhaust their home remedies and their endless hugs. 

And you will be alright, because Jesus will be meeting your needs through His people. 

And then you will have dinners at midnight with all-consuming laughter and you'll forget the stress that is threatening to take you over. 

You will be reminded that out of a book, God brought you a family. 

You will be reminded that sometimes you need to forget schedules, you need to forgo bedtimes and let yourself be surrounded with eleven people that you love with all you are. 

and…then you'll receive a message. 10 years. 10 years ago you said goodbye to your grandfather, and now you are having to say goodbye to the adopted grandfather that walked into your life with a joke, a twinkle in his eye and an ever-present need to straighten up the clothes. 

You forgot how to grieve and the only thing you knew was that you should come back home. And just like years previous, people would question, would ask if this was the right thing. But I think you know that there isn't a right or a wrong here. I think you knew that you needed to come home and say goodbye, just as much as you needed to lay in bed for a few days. 

Your little home team surrounded you with nine prayers and your darling adults bid you well and friends sat with you for hours as you talked yourself in and out of buying the plane ticket. And then there was the doorbell ringing at 7:30 in the morning and that steady voice telling you all would be well, telling you what you had once told him that there should be no fear of right or wrong, that if you are seeking Jesus, He will take you where He wants you to be. 

The expectations you were placing on yourself weren't enough, they were too much. And I think this time at home has shown you that. 

You see people with grace and many times they question your ease at loving others, but your problem is that you hardly ever see yourself with that same grace. You have a million expectations on yourself and your spirit trembles at times, because you don't let yourself rest. You don't let yourself grieve.

And if we're honest with each other, I don't know that you know how to rest. I don't know that you know how to grieve. And maybe you aren't the only one, maybe no one truly knows. But here's what you can learn here; you are enough. God is enough in your sickness and He is enough in your grief. 

And yes, Monday was too much, dear child. Days like Monday always are, because grief isn't something that comes natural. Grief is something that steals your breath like a bitter cold and latches onto your heart for a time. And yes, your dear ones that love you are going to tell you to let go and they are going to ask you a million questions, but child, you grieve. You say goodbye. You sit in your silence and just remember that God is enough. And so He will always be… 

And when grief wants to take hold, just remember the moment when you got to read Granny these words. Just remember that God knew you would need a few more hours with him and that is exactly what you had, child. 

Granny, 

I just wanted to again remind you how much that I love you. You came into my life just at the right time and filled a hole that I am certain that only you could have filled. I have been tremendously blessed by your encouragement, your willingness to look at picture after picture and hear of my sweet children in Mexico, you gracing birthdays and last days with flowers and true hugs. 

Granny, your presence filled an undeniable absence in my heart and I am so grateful that you "adopted" me into your family. Goodwill gifted me many things throughout the nine years I have called it home, but you are certainly one of the biggest gifts I have received. 

And well, honestly, I wish I could be sitting with you as you read this. I wish I could be telling you the gratefulness that exists upon my heart for knowing you, for you knowing me, for you loving me. But even if I was there, I am not sure I could find the words to tell you how grateful I am. Because in moments like this, the perfect words don't exist. 

And so I find myself rambling, but it's all in love. I have been forever changed by knowing you, Granny. Your constant reflection of Jesus, the joy in your eyes, and your undeniable strength have reminded me that even on the hardest of days-I need to carry on, I need to push through and let my life sing of His praise. 

Thank you for loving me and for taking me in over these past nine years, Granny. Thank you for coming in and sitting with us, sharing your stories and your sugar-free gum, thank you for making a store feel like home and for reminding me that Jesus is always enough, and He always needs to be first. 

Granny, the lives that you have touched just by being you are innumerable. I can't rightly tell you of all the people that are blessed to know you, the people that you set out to love on a daily basis, that are often overlooked or are unloved by most. 

Thank you for your love. Thank you for being my Grandfather, who has always welcomed me back no matter how much time has passed. Thank you for celebrating my small victories and for encouraging me on the hardest of days to keep looking up to Jesus for my strength. Thank you for being here for me. 

And as write this, tears are near, because I am so thankful for you.

I love you and I'm covering you with all of my prayers from Mexico, 

I'll be home for Christmas, Granny, 
Kristen 

God sees you...

God sees you. 

I wonder how often we let this phrase fall flippantly off our tongue, without letting it resonate and shake our souls. I wonder what it takes to believe that when that when the world refuses to welcome you back in grace, that your worth in the world's eyes pales in comparison to your God, your God who sees you. 

Your worth does not stem or end with what the world will tell you. 

Worth comes from your God, who formed you to be only you, to fill your place. 

But you know what? 

We latch onto people's words as though it ends with them, giving them the last word of our lives, and Jesus looks on…

We box up our desires alongside our dreams and we refuse to believe that there is more to this life than it seems, meaning fades to dust and who we really are is forgotten. 

Rejection wreaks havoc on our hearts and people's idea of where and what we should be overshadows everything. 

My past has been finding a way of being told these days - the seven year fight to be loved, the harsh words declaring I was giving up, walking out of God's will. . . but those things don't get to hold me back anymore. They no longer have my permission. 

The truth has won out, the truth that God sees me and knows me compels me onward. 

I used to want to give up and fade out before being seen, but now I am starting to believe that never was what was to become of me, because no matter how hard I tried to hide- God always saw me and He always knew me…where I saw rejection, He saw redemption, where I saw worthlessness, He saw worth, where I saw a heart broken, He saw a heart mended. 

You little heart, what do you believe to be out of reach, what is the fear that grips hold of your heart, what do you see?

Now those things are just things. God wants hold of your heart. He wants you to realize that the world will always try to claim you and peg your worth, but your worth rests in Him and His grace, the past doesn't have to be retraced. 

God sees you as you are, beautiful with your every scar. Unclench your fists, child, let His love persist. 

And you will realize that you have always been enough, you have always been loved, you will realize that your story was always meant to be told. 

a letter to his beloved ones...

"Surely this is our God; we trusted in Him, and He saved us. 

This is the Lord, we trusted in Him, let us rejoice and be glad in His salvation."

Isaiah 25:9

"Sometimes what we want is just to be heard. 

We want to know that they've actually listened to us." -Bell

I may be the only one that these words were written for, today, but I'm just not that sure. So if you are feeling like you are sitting in His silence, I pray that these words would find you and tell you that you are not alone. The beautiful thing about our Savior is that….He always meets us right where we are.

Oh child, don't dig your own cistern. What you have planned down to perfection doesn't even begin to match what I have for you. My best is better that you can even imagine and while you fear what you cannot see and what you cannot hold- 

I  a  m  f  o  r  y  o  u. 

I have redeemed your rejection.  

I have healed your heartache and I am mending your mess. 

Stop fearing and stop fleeing, child, you are meant to be here in this very place and well, what you are feeling is okay. Don't you be ashamed of this,   i   t   '   s   o   k   a   y. 

What is not okay is hushing your heart, forbidding your voice to speak up. You were not made to be silent, child of mine. I have words set apart for you, alone. Your story cannot be replaced by anyone else's.  S   T   O   P.  just breathe. 

Just be and rest in my many promises, they are for your taking. 

I know you are feeling as though you are giving up too much of yourself and letting too many people into your heart. I know you feel as though your past has caught up to you. But unclench those fists and realize that I am guarding your heart and I am with you. 

Yes, know that you can't even imagine the beautiful future that awaits you. You just can't, love. Be still. Stop defining your present with your past and just trust, trust that you cannot limit me and that I refuse to be sealed in a box of your messy idea of perfection. Instead I will redeem your ruins and I will make something beautiful out of this and I will make something beautiful out of you. 

Unclench your trembling fists and take my hand, dear child. 

I a m r i g h t h e r e. 

My purpose for you and that precious, fearful heart of yours will and is being accomplished for you. I will have my way in you, just trust me. 

I see you, love. 

I know you have hidden your desires from most and I know even more so, that you have spent years hiding from them, yourself. But dear child, it is okay to recognize your desires. It's okay to long for something, just let me be your first love. When you do this, you will begin to realize that your desires were always a part of who I made you to be. However, the best thing you can do is give them back to me. 

My timing is perfect. 

Stop living out of expectations and step into faith, dear one. 

I am taking you to the other side and you will not be left, do you hear me?

You will not be left. 

Your past does not define your present, nor does it define your future. 

I know you, love. I know that confusion is trying to take your eyes off of me, but don't love, look to me, trust me. 

I h a v e y o u r h e a r t

I a l w a y s w i l l 

and so are small beginnings...

I had a student quietly whisper over the commotion outside that his New Year's Resolution was to find Jesus…and just as quickly as he said it, it faded into existence, but I stowed that resolution away for keeps. Prayers fumbled from my heart to mind, and I asked Jesus to make this my student's year.

My little dreamers spent Tuesday declaring dreams for the new year and then they prayed over each other, when finished one of my students gently said, "this is the first time I've ever prayed before." We celebrated her victory like a home-team is supposed to and then Thursday when a student took over the teaching, the same girl declared that this would be the year that she starts to read her Bible.

My dear adults found their way back to class and ended up admitting that although they were reluctant to come in the beginning, that now there isn't any other place they would rather be on Tuesdays. We had a student observing whether or not he wanted to register and the other adults mentioned how our class is so much more than English, how it's the fellowship, the verse we see each week, and talking about God.

My little light that I call my daughter had heavy eyes the other day, so I wrote her a little note and she admitted that she didn't do as well in school this past semester, while tears fell from her eyes. Jesus nudged me to speak truth and even though he knows how unconfident I am about praying in a second language, He told me that this was one such moment.

In the past couple of classes, we have had the case of relentless giggles and while this is the last thing a teacher wants to tell you…I'm telling you, anyways, sure I have no idea the reason for the contagious laughter and we probably have laughed more than we have seen English, but I think sometimes Jesus wants to remind us that it is okay to lose it in laughter, it's okay to be so full of joy, that it gets out of control.

There have been afternoons this week when I have been able to rest and relish in His faithfulness and just sit in awe at the beauty that is, Him making us brave. I am in awe of how He turns something so small into something so beautiful.

Let's celebrate small victories. 

I have been here over a week now and well, the beautiful thing is that these things started happening the day I returned to the classroom. I believe it is God's way of telling me that I'm right where I need be, that yes, although my heart longs to fix things and give immediate answers, that sometimes the "me too" or the silence you offer someone who needs to be heard, does more than you could ever imagine.

I wonder how many times we miss the moments, because we are afraid of what to say.

I wonder how many times we miss the moments, because we are too busy over-thinking and too paralyzed by fear to act.

I wonder how many times we miss the moments, because we are expecting something huge to happen.

God delights in small beginnings. 
God celebrates small victories. 

And while you think that these little things are nothing in the grand scheme of things, these are small beginnings and they, too, are accomplishing His purpose.

I think sometimes our idea of this side of Heaven is lost upon us. Sometimes we feel as though Jesus is telling us to fend for ourselves, to clean up our mess, to fix the broken things in our life and the broken people around us.

But such feelings are just doubting his provision,

and "Grace leaves little room for doubt."

Sometimes there are no good answers and there are no quick fixes, but Jesus is a God who enters into our mess and He says that with Him, it is well.

My word for 2015 is enough and all of these small beginnings and so many other things have shown me that this is already ringing true for my year. With Jesus, it is well. With Jesus, it is enough.






And while I'm sure hard days will come, I'm certain that HE is and always will be enough for me. I'm certain that the small victories and small beginnings in this life deserve to be celebrated and I'm positive that God is celebrating them with me.

a letter to you, for keeps...

Dear you, 

Your eyes failed to ring in the new year and you faded quickly into deep sleep, but before you faded 2014 gently crept onto the movie reel of your heart and you reveled. You reveled, because 2014 was a year of torrential tears, breathtaking beauty, reckless abandonment and surprises that whisked your heart away. 

A year spent among your NOE abruptly came to a close at the end of May and you thought the goodbyes you had spent years saying were the worst, but you had no idea...Because, love, the more time you had spent at NOE, the more it had become home. The home that you spent years praying for, but you just didn't know that it existed some 2000 miles away. 

And while, it was sometimes hard to get up most days and find joy in hanging clothes, again, God reminded you that there was a need right where you were, that there is always a need right where you are. Even if it may be the last place you think you "should" be. 

Hard times fell upon your heart, because you had to relearn the inner workings of living stateside while loving your babies from afar, you had to be still and you had to relearn that as much as you love fixing, that there are things on this side of Heaven that you can't fix. Those people in your life, you love them; you don't fix them. Those problems that they are living in aren't something you can just take away and stow for safekeeping. But you can be there. You can sit with them. You can say the hard words that would have never ever been mentioned in the past. You can love them without fixing them and dear girl, that's something that you learned and you are still learning. 

But May, yes, it was a month of saying goodbyes, but God used something minor to bring about something beautiful. Most days...things were held inside and went unmentioned or were overlooked by the ones you were loving, but there was a voice among the silence that stood out. And it's been pretty steady since then…crazy to think how God can use the smallest of things to remind you of how loved you are, to remind you that He hears you. And crazy, beautiful to think that the familiar voice hasn't gone silent. It's still very much a part of your life. 

You finished your Masters. You ran a half marathon. 

You remember that day when the table of students you were sitting with started to pray…and then it all ended in a circle of seventeen hands with over eight voices rising up from the silence and praying over each other? That was a moment spent on holy ground, love. A moment that you can be certain came from Him and a moment that was given back to Him. 

…and when you joked about being an "angel" and writing a student who didn't have a sponsor to send him letters. You wrote a letter to him and the look of absolute joy on his face will be something forever engrained in your memory. Something so small made his eyes light up and a face that is often shadowed changed completely before your eyes. 

And then there were those conversations that took place upon your couch, in your own little house. Those moments when God somehow gave you the words to say and the grace to say them. Dear girl, cherish those moments and guard them for the years to come. 

Two Christmases full of joy and heartache was incredibly absent. Two Christmases spent among the ones that know you to your core, spent seeing life rebuilt and victory reclaimed. 

The dear boy kept awake one morning that ended up in church on a random Sunday. Holy ground, yet again.

And sitting on your grandfather's bed and reading him the words you sent him in October…moments spent on holy ground, my love. 

All this to say to you that 2014 was a year when God did something in you, just like years past. All this to say that He let you stand and sit on holy ground and experience love to the absolute fullest. 

All this to say, that 2014 was a year when you realized that the can'ts and shoulds don't really need to guide you, because your Maker is one of whimsy, of reckless abandon, amazing grace and He delights in your joy. 

He delights in your joy. DO you hear that?

You said goodbye, but He brought you back. 

Hold these moments close to your heart, child, and remember that this is just the beginning. The Lord will accomplish His purpose for you, because His word does not return empty. 

grace

I find myself grasping for more grace these days, wanting to be filled so I might be emptied, again.

and…I reach. I reach out with my feeble hands and I attempt to unearth what grace is, what it does. 

I take my seat at the head of the table in my classroom and I relish the feeling, the honor of being able to teach, the honor of being able to plant seeds. 

and the meaning of grace falls from my tongue.

grace, it gives people the benefit of the doubt. 

grace, is an open heart, an open door. 

but grace, is misused and misplaced. 

and i find myself reaching and reeling, longing that my every student might know, might truly experience grace, the grace that understands the unfathomable, the grace that welcomes the weary, the grace that says nothing, when nothing is needed to be said. 

I struggle. I struggle, because I know I can't fix what is broken. 
I can't reach deep into hurting souls and turn on the light to wash away the darkness.
I can't always have the words to bandage the heartbroken, the salve to lessen the scars. 

but I don't think grace focuses on what can't be done. 

i think grace is always enough. 
i think grace is always overcoming. 
i think grace is always forgiving.
i think grace is always grasping. 

I think grace is beautiful, it leaves me in awe, because grace is what brought me here. You see, I, I was just an innocent girl with a crazy dream. I was just one of those that rarely attempted to be someone else, to do something more, to speak when it wasn't required was something I all, but avoided. 

I hid in the face of confrontation. 
I hid behind the pages of my books. 
I hid from pain, from heartache, but it eventually found me. 

and well, grace found me, too. 

it found me battered, bruised, and left-behind. it found me on my knees. grace found me when i least expected that any hope could be left for me, because i started looking for grace and love in all the wrong places, in all of the wrong people. 

i found myself stretching to please those around me. i found myself opening the forbidden doors of the past, just because i thought i deserved, i needed to be loved by a boy, and not by God, alone.

i started quietly, fiercely demanding that a boy's over-promised love would finally be for me, that i might have a hand to hold. but this demand ended in torrents of tears for years. it ended, just as it begun, empty hands and a failing heart. but you see, my reaction and the common response to our hurt is claiming that jesus, that he had something to do with it. but i knew all along, that grace and love couldn't be found in this boy. that my expectations were far-off, i was leaving God out of the picture. i was telling him what i wanted, what i deserved. 

but grace. His grace looks at these failures, and says "oh, child, you walked right into heartache, what you thought to be enough, was just a way of settling, barely getting by." His grace looks at the homes we build, the short-cuts we take, and He whispers, "oh child, will you just put down your tools, will just sit down with me and trust that I have complete control."

and grace, it's enough.

my hands are still empty, but my heart is full. because everyday, i get the chance to give grace to my students, my children. because everyday, i get the chance to tell my story and miraculously God uses the heartache, he uses the past pain and he accomplishes something. he accomplishes something beautiful. because unlike the people our hearts long to please, our God's words never return empty. 

He will fulfill what he has promised.  

His grace is enough. 
It always will be. 

so let grace find you, today, you, wherever you are. whatever you are standing in. let grace find you and let grace heal you. let it fill you. wrap your empty hands around grace and refuse to define life by what you can't do, but rather seek out what you can do, give grace.

make it a point to realize the house you are building for yourself, the people you are pleasing are ways of settling, it's your way of telling jesus that you have everything under control, but dear child, you are one step from breaking into a million pieces, your God knows exactly what you need. unclench your controlling fists and cling to grace, it's enough.